


Confessional

by orphan_account



Category: Dracula - Stoker
Genre: Community: femslash_today, F/F, Femslash, Victorian, over 1000 words
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-11-24
Updated: 2008-11-24
Packaged: 2017-10-03 19:02:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lost pages from Mina's diary.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Confessional

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Femslash-Today's 'Cold Snap' Porn Battle.

I set my pen on paper today to write a confession which must never be read by anyone but myself, as it concerns only myself and one departed. Yet it must be made, to ease my own conscience and to explain, perhaps to myself, how compassion can lead to acts which should not be borne, being against nature. There is much sin in these diaries of mine, I'm afraid, and while this may seem to some as one of the more abhorrent, I would wager that it is by far the least.

One morning when I arrived at her bedside, dear Lucy sent all others away. She bid me sit beside her on the bed, which I did willingly, holding her small, cold hand between mine, hoping to rub some warmth into it. She talked of Tennyson extensively and I encouraged her, my own throat near stopped for fear of her health. I would not tell her to be quiet, though, as talking brought roses to her pale cheeks, as if the rhythm of speech made her breathing steadier.

'Mina,' she said at last, changing the subject abruptly, 'I am going to ask you for a favour I rightly should ask from my fiancé, but cannot, for honour's sake. If I die unmarried, I will die a virgin, but I would not – will not die without knowing physical tenderness. Mina, my darling, do you know what I'm asking of you?'

My breath caught in my throat, but I nodded. I can't remember exactly how I first found out about the sort of dalliances that can occur between women, but some of it came from a scandal below our stairs, and some more from medical books in our library.

'Come to me, Mina,' she said, her sweet face turned towards me, so full of longing that I did not resist. In a moment the decision was made, made almost for me by her need. I lay down beside her fully clothed, and wrapped my arms around her.

She wore no stays under her voluminous nightdress, and I felt a queer thrill to feel her softness against my arms. She pulled me down to kiss her mouth, softer than Jonathan's, warm and moist, and I kissed her back, drawing on all my small experience. She deserved better than this, but I would give her all I could. She bent up into my kisses eagerly.

A sinful curiousity began to obsess me. I knew my own body, but not that of other women, nor how another woman would react to my touch, or how it would feel to have another woman's hand on my breast. That, of course, would not happen, as I could hardly undo my entire outfit. I slipped the covers off Lucy, though it pained me to see her shiver, and drew up her nightdress. Her legs were long and white, and with a shiver of excitement I drew my hand up along the inside of one. Lucy moaned and undulated beneath me, and it was wonderful to see I had the power to make her feel so. Finally, I pushed her nightdress up all the way, and she slipped it over her head, leaving her beauty unveiled before me.

My breath was caught, for though she was thinner now since her illness began, my Lucy was lovely like a spring morning, and though I felt miserable and sure I was committing a terrible sin, I could not but dive back into her arms, kissing her mouth, her neck, her breasts, and God help me, her forbidden place. This last gave sent her into such spasms of pleasure I would have become alarmed, and called for a doctor at once, if she hadn't been begging me to continue all the while. So I closed my eyes, and as her fingers dug into my hair, did as well as I could, drawing on my limited, and very secret, reading, and from her coaxing.

I must confess the whole. Kissing her thus, I felt my own woman's parts grow heated and moist, and felt such reciprocal pleasure as to make me feel feint, my chest heaving in protest to the constriction of my light corset. I wished to be naked against her nudeness. But enough of that. I will pray, as soon as I have written down this private confession.

After a while, she slumped back against her pillows, spent, and I rose up on my hands, my hair in disarray, and fumbled for a neckerchief to wipe my mouth, but she begged me to kiss her, so I barely had time for a cursory wipe before her mouth meshed with mine.

'How queer it tastes,' she giggled, and then coughed, and, mortified, I quickly pulled her nightdress back on her and tucked her in under the covers.

'Dear Mina, do not fret,' she said, smiling weakly but happily. Of course I fretted – I would not have her die for my indecent lack of care.

'You must pray, now, as I will,' I told her. I meant to continue, “for your eternal soul”, but I was not yet as ready to voice the likelihood of her departure as she was.

'I will,' she said, and then horrified me, her next words almost making me regret indulging her, 'though I cannot see how this could be a sin, merely for being pleasure.' She sat up and kissed my open mouth, choosing the lower lip for her target. 'Oh Mina.' She laughed when she saw my expression. 'I have scoured the Bible, and there is not a word against it. I have consulted my conscience in drawing you into what has the appearance of sin, and I apologize for your regret, but cannot feel it myself. Nonetheless, I will pray.' After a pause, during which she lay her head on my shoulder, her sweet breath on my neck, and I speechless, she continued, 'Was it very terrible?'

'No,' I replied, and, my dear diary confessor, this was God's truth. At that moment, the only thing I regretted was that I could not stay, that she wasn't well, and that we could not indulge in hours more of this love's play.

I close this chapter here, for I cannot write more, not without remembering her loss, and for that I must fortify myself. I go to pray, and hope God will forgive me for a sin I still cannot bring myself to regret.


End file.
